The lark rises into the blue heights, the warm wind blows softly;
its blissful mild breath revives and kisses the fields and meadows.

Spring awakens in beauteous splendor,
let all suffering now end, all grief has flown far away!
Sorrow grows fainter as joyful sights and a belief in happiness return.
Sunlight, now break through!
Everything laughs, everything awakens!
A stream of songs is flowing which for too long has seemed silent.
From the branches we again hear sweet voices, pure and clear!
Ah, the nightingale sounds its first notes, softly,
so as not to disturb the queen.
Hush, all you singers!
Soon her sweet song will sound more fully,
soon, oh soon! Ah........
Song of the nightingale, fair sound!
Glowing with love, the song resounds, and the sound,
sweet and familiar, also seems to carry sorrows, ah, rock the heart to sweet dreams,
ah, so gently! Longing and desire dwell in my breast
when her song entices so anxiously, sparkling like stars from afar,
shimmering magically like moonlight, Echoing through the valley!
Barely has the night vanished than the lark starts to sing, heralding daylight as shadows recede! Ah!

Ah, spring’s voices sound, so familiar, Ah yes, sweet sound, Ah, yes!